


Suffocation

by DoggHoly



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Angst, Attempted Murder, Buried Alive, Canon-Typical Violence, Freeform, Gen, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Out of Character, Serial killer! Jack, Strangulation, Tim and Jack are twins, Victim! Rhys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-23 04:05:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10711830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoggHoly/pseuds/DoggHoly
Summary: A vulnerable Rhys finds a handsome stranger in a bar has taken an interest in him. If something is too good to be true, it usually is.





	1. Hey Handsome

Rhys arched an eyebrow noticing the silver fox that had just walked into the bar. The man he had settled his attention on seemed to feel the same, as he made a beeline for the younger man sitting at the bar. He was tall and lean, perfectly quaffed brown hair, with an odd scar arching its way across his face. It was 'V' shaped, starting at his forehead, making its way down his nose and back up over his eye, a streak of silver in the middle of his hairline where the scar stopped, dark aviator sunglasses covered his eyes. 

“Hey there Handsome.” Rhys grinned as the man pulled up a stool next to him. 

“Hey there yourself.” He smiled back, flagging down the bartender and ordering two Martinis. “What's your name kiddo?” 

Rhys' heart fluttered, this guy was totally hitting on him! “It's Rhys.” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing.

The man took a deep sip of his Martini as it was set in front of him, gesturing for Rhys to do the same, “The name's Jack. Whats a fine young thing doing all alone in a bar like this?” he said motioning to their surroundings. The place was filled with drunken slobs, people passed out on tables, and a couple of men fighting in the corner.

Rhys averted his eyes from Jacks gaze, “Drinking my cares away, like everyone else in here. I was dumped yesterday.” The day before he had been dumped by his boyfriend of almost a year, on their anniversary no less! His best friend Vaughn, advised him against going out in the head space he was in, but what did he know? Said it was dangerous, not to go for a rebound. But here he was chatting with an older man who had taken interest in him. It was almost to good to be true!

Jack reached out his hand and cupped Rhys chin, gently turning his gaze back to him “Hey there champ! No need to be so blue, ol' Jakie's gonna take care of ya!” he said waving a hand to signal the bartender again “Bring some whiskey for me and my new friend Rhys! And leave the bottle!” 

Before Rhys knew it the bartender returned with an expensive bottle of whiskey and a pair of shot glasses setting them in front of the two men. Rhys grabbed his martini and downed it in one gulp. He grinned as Jack poured the two of them a shot each of the whiskey.

Jack picked up a shot and raised it in front of Rhys “To new ventures.” He smiled over his glass at Rhys, watching him down his own shot.

***  
The bottle of whiskey sat on the bar more than four fifths gone, and Rhys was barely able to stay on his seat. “You know what...you know what?” he slurred shoving an accusatory finger in Jacks face “You...You, you are soooo hot...hic...screw Vaughn, he...hic...he told me not to come out tonight. But here I am...hic...with you, and you are sooo hot.” Rhys giggled, leaning forward falling into Jacks arms. 

Jack chuckled, catching Rhys as he fell forward. He looked at the bartender and smirked “Kid can't hold his liquor. Guess I'll take care of the tab.” He pushed Rhys gently back onto his bar stool and pulled out his wallet laying a large stack of cash on the bar “Keep the change.” he winked at the bartender, while taking the bottle of whiskey and recapping it. “C'mon Rhysie lets get you out of here.” Jack wrapped his free arm around Rhys and started to lead him towards the door. 

Jack had to practically had to drag the young man through the parking lot to his car “Come on, come on were almost there.” He grunted “Quit draggin' yer feet!” He was heavier than he looked, 'Must be that cybernetic arm' Jack thought to himself, the kid couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds when he was wet, so tall and lanky. 'Just his type.' he grinned. 

When they got to the car Jack opened the door and unceremoniously shoved him into the passenger seat. The kid was out cold, but there was to many people in the parking lot, he'd have to take him somewhere more private.

**

Rhys woke with a jolt, trying to sit up he bumped his head on something. It was dark and he could hear the quiet hum of a car motor and passing cars. He tried tried to move his arms and legs but they were bound at the wrists all the way up to his elbow in front of him, his legs were taped up to his knees, he could feel the circulation being cut off. Rhys tried to let out a scream of fear but his mouth was taped shut too. 

He began to grope around blindly for clues as to where he was, and what had happened. Was he in the trunk of a car? He tried to feel for an emergency latch, but to no avail, must be an older model car, he sighed to himself. His head was pounding, why couldn't he remember? Rhys squeezed his eyes shut trying to remember while also trying to remain calm. 

His thoughts were cut short as he began to be violently thrown around in the trunk of the car, had the driver turned onto a gravel road? Rhys grunted and moaned, he felt every pot hole that the guy flew over, where were they going? 

All at once the car jerked to a sudden stop, he could hear crunching of gravel under heavy boots, the sound getting closer. Suddenly the trunk popped open, Rhys squinted at the light, but his eyes quickly widened. Jack stood there grinning down at him, his hand resting on the top of the trunk.

“Oh hey your awake!” the older man smirked, reaching for a dirty shovel in the trunk. “Hang tight kiddo, I'll be right back for you.” 

Rhys' blood ran cold, as he was plunged into darkness once again after Jack slammed the trunk closed. He began to writhe and kick trying his hardest to break his bonds. What was Jack going to do to him? He stopped for a moment when he heard shuffling in the back seat and the car door being shut. There was a faint sound of a shovel scraping the ground, was Jack digging?

What had he gotten himself into? He could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and soon the floodgates opened. Tears streamed down his face as he quietly sobbed in the darkness. He had given up trying to break free, there was just to many layers of tape, and he was so tired and hung over. His mind raced, running though each possible scenario, concluding that he was gonna die at the hands of a handsome stranger he met in a dirty bar. How could he have been so stupid? He should have listened to Vaughn. He could've been at home wrapped up in a blanket having Brotime with his best bro, but here he was at the mercy of a drifter. 

Suddenly the trunk opened again, Jacks scarred face leering down at him. Rhys screwed his eyes shut, hoping what ever was going to happen, that the guy just made it quick. He reached down with both hands slipping under the younger man's arms, pulling him from the trunk and dragging him away from the car. Rhys caught a glimpse of a large rectangular, hinged box laying open near a large hole of about the same size. Was Jack was going to kill him and then put him in that box? Rhys began to thrash and fight to the best of his ability, being tied up this made it more difficult. He was gonna go out fighting, regardless. 

He managed to wriggle free of Jacks grasp, hitting the gravel road with a wince. He could hear Jack snickering, “Ooh we got a fighter.” Rhys began to try and wriggle away, but Jack was not having it, he grabbed Rhys' feet and dragged him back to him. 

In one swift motion Jack flipped the younger man over, and was on top of him straddling his arms, keeping them pinned to his chest. Rhys began to kick out, digging his boots into the gravel trying to buck Jack off, where ever this was going he didn't like it. He twisted his body and tossed his head back and forth, but to no avail, Jack was much stronger and heaver than him, he just sat on his chest grinning like a cat who had caught a mouse. 

“Are you done?” Jack said impatiently, arching a eyebrow looking down at Rhys' tear stained face. He had stopped squirming momentarily, body weak and exhausted. Rhys just laid his head back, a look of defeat on his face, resigning to his fate. He felt Jack lay a gentle hand on his cheek, miss matched eyes shot to Jack's face, “Nothin' personal kid.” the older man murmured.

The hand on his cheek slipped down to his throat, and was quickly joined by the other has Jack began to press tightly on his windpipe. Rhys sucked in air though his nostrils, and began his struggling anew. His chest heaved as he tried to buck Jack off with renewed vigor, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Jack just held tight closing his hands tighter and tighter against Rhys pale throat. 

Rhys could feel himself quickly becoming weaker, his struggling ceasing. He pleaded with his eyes for Jack to stop, tears streaming down his face. But the look of concentration on the older mans face, seemingly unfazed by Rhys' pleading, said that this was only going to end when he was dead. 

Blackness began to edge at the corners of his vision, he could feel himself start to drift out of consciousnesses, despite his attempts to hungrily suck in air through his flaring nostrils. They say you see your life flash before you eyes before you die, but Rhys didn't see it. He ripped his eyes from his attackers face long enough to catch a glimpse of vibrant pinks and oranges of the sky, slowly diminishing the stars as the sun began to rise. A good last vision he thought before closing his eyes and succumbing to unconsciousness. 

***

It was almost a shame to kill this one, Jack thought to himself struggling to hold on to the young mans throat as he thrashed. He was like his usual targets, young, lithe, and attractive. But this one was different, maybe it was the heterocromic eyes that matched his own, maybe it was the cybernetic arm, maybe it was the perfectly slicked back auburn hair, or the weird mismatched outfit he wore, consisting of blues, blacks and pinstripes, with an odd red tie. Jack shook the thought from his head, it was to late to turn back know, the kid knew what he looked like and his intentions. 

He could feel Rhys' life force slowly slipping away as he closed his eyes and stopped struggling. Holding on for a moment longer, Jack let go, leaning back to admire his handy work. Dark bruises were starting to form on the younger mans neck, perfect outlines of his gloved hands. Satisfied with what he saw, Jack stood up and grabbed Rhys shirt at the shoulders, dragging him to the wooden box. 

When he got to the box Jack began to maneuver Rhys' limp gangling form into it. With effort and and a few colorful words hurled at the slain mans body, Jack manged to make him fit. His knees bent, and head cocked to the side, Jack stole one last glance at his latest victim before shutting the lid and pushing the box into the hole. 

This was Jack's least favorite part, he grunted as he shoveled fresh soil onto the box. He lived for the kill, finding a victim and dispatching them was easy, but disposal was the hard part. He grabbed the nearly empty bottle of whisky sitting next to him, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. He shrugged to himself, the thrill of it all, the life fleeting from his victims eyes, it made it all worth it. 

After several more shovelfuls of dirt, Jack was happy with his work. He took to stomping the ground down in an attempt to better pack it and not have it tampered with. Jack made his way back to his car, shovel in hand, popping the trunk and throwing it in, stripping his gloves they were tossed in as well. He closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's side, opening the door and sliding in. Slipping the key into the ignition he started his car and began to drive down to the main road again. 

Not a bad way to spend a Wednesday night, he grinned to himself.


	2. Good things come in small boxes?

Rhys woke with a start, sucking in air though his nose, his coughs and sputters suppressed by the tape that wound its way around his head. Panic hit him immediately, the last thing he remembered was being choked by Jack, how was he alive? He swallowed thickly, the pain in his throat exacerbated. It was dark again, was he back in Jack's trunk? Rhys tried rolling over, but his shoulder hit the lid of the narrow wooden box.

The box. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, he began to bang on the lid above him with his fists, but stopped immediately when particles of dirt hit him in the face. A wave of panic washed over him, the bastard buried him alive! 

His mind raced, what was he gonna do? Firstly, he needed to conserve his oxygen, he didn't know how much he had before he suffocated. Rhys began to take small shallow breaths, his eyes surveying the small prison. If Vaughn was here, he'd know what to do, he was always the brains of the duo. Vaughn! He felt almost stupid that he didn't think of him sooner. 

Rhys grunted as he tried to wriggle his hand the smallest bit loose to turn the palm of his cybernetic hand upward. Success! A blue screen popped up in his hand, a picture of a telephone connecting lit up the small box. He prayed that his friend would pick up, Vaughn wasn't exactly known for being a morning person. 

The phone kept ringing, and ringing. Rhys began to panic again, he didn't have much time, his friend needed to pick up! Just as he was about to give up hope, the image of a bleary eyed Vaughn popped up on his screen. “Do you have any idea what time it is bro?” he grumbled, fumbling for his glasses. 

Rhys began to make muffled desperate noises, trying to get his friend to snap out of it. Vaughn seemed to sense something was amiss as he pushed his glasses onto his nose and squinted at Rhys. “Rhys, where are you?!” he murmured. Rhys' eyes just widened and he made more muffled sounds, trying to convey the urgency of the situation with his body language.

Vaughn bit his lip, “Ok, ok, I'm calling the police. And I am gonna start tracking you bro!” he set down the phone, and Rhys could hear him pecking away at a keyboard. “Ok I got it! You're actually not to far from here.” He said triumphantly, “I'm gonna have to hang up though and call the police. Hang tight, I'm gonna get you out of this!”

Rhys wanted so badly for his friend to stay on the line, to talk him though this, but he knew he needed to let Vaughn work. He just nodded silently, as his friend gave him a reassuring smile before the screen went blank. Thank god he a sprung for the GPS tracker for his cybernetics. 

**

Vaughn's smile immediately faded into a frown as soon after he hung up on his friend. What had Rhys gotten himself into? Where was he and why couldn't he talk to him? He could barely make out the features of his face, with the glow of his blue cybernetic eye in the darkness, but the look of urgency his friend was giving him was certainly unsettling. 

His fingers danced over the face of his cell phone, dialing EMS, “911 whats your emergency?” a disgustingly chipper woman answered on the other end. “Yes, hi, my name is Vaughn and my friend is in trouble, I have GPS coordinates, but I am not exactly sure where he is....” 

**

What was probably only a few minutes felt like an eternity to the trapped man. He could feel the air becoming thin as he continued to take shallow breaths through his nose. He didn't have much time left, where was Vaughn?

Rhys closed his eyes, he was so tired. He just needed to rest, it'd all feel better after a good doze. He could hear an odd sound in the distance, was it a dog barking? No, he must be slowly losing his mind. But there was also muffled voices too, shouting perhaps? Rhys shook the thought from his head, he would figure it out later, right now he just needed to sleep.

**

Soon Vaughn was in his car leading a line of police, ambulances, and a fire truck down the freeway. The tracker leading him towards a wooded area and down an abandoned gravel road. His car screeched to a stop in a small clearing where the road seemingly ended. As he hopped out of his car, the EMS team and police followed suit. 

He began to walk forward when an officer with a large German Shepard on a leash walked briskly past him, “Whats that for?” He questioned pointing at the dog. The cop just gave him a annoyed look, “Cadaver dog.” he said flatly, walking hurriedly as the dog pulled him forward. Vaughn struggled to swallow the lump in his throat as he trotted after them.

He walked a few more feet, following the GPS signal, then suddenly stopping, looking around “I don't understand, it says he should be right here!” He glanced around, when the freshly upturned soil under his feet caught his attention and his heart sank. Dropping to his knees he began to frantically dig in the dirt with his bare hands “Here, he's here! Somebody help me dig!” he exclaimed in a strained voice.

Instantly the fire team shoved him out of the way, bringing shovels and hastily digging. Vaughn just stood back and let the team work, standing idly by and wringing his hands. “Please be ok, bro.”

Within minutes the fire team unearthed the narrow wooden box, Vaughn's heart caught in his throat as the team flipped open the lid to reveal Rhys' motionless body. He felt queasy looking at his friend, Rhys looked like death warmed over, he was pale, with dark circles under his eyes. But what made his stomach churn was the dark hand prints encircling his throat. One of the team members pressed his fingers to Rhys neck, feeling for a sign of life “We got a pulse! Its weak, but hes alive! Lets move people!” 

The shorter man was once again hustled aside as the EMS team hosted Rhys' lifeless body out of the hole and onto a stretcher. Bandage scissors made quick work of the tape that bound his limbs and mouth, Vaughn just watched helplessly as the team worked, placing IV lines, strapping an oxygen mask to his face, pulling his eye lids open checking for a pupil reaction, and administering drugs. All while rushing back to the awaiting ambulance. 

Vaughn struggled to keep up as he chased the team, running to his car to follow the ambulance. 

**

“...and the kitten was safely returned to his family. In other news, the latest victim of the 'Handsome Strangler', Rhys Cohen, was miraculously found alive. Reports say he was buried alive, but was found in time with the help of his quick thinking friend. He is in stable condition, recovering at a local hospital. Along with Cohen, several other John Does were found also buried nearby...”

“Shut that off will ya?” 

Vaughn ripped his attention from the screen to his friend “Rhys! Bro! Your awake!” he exclaimed, rushing to his friends side. “You've been out for over a day! How are you feeling?”

Rhys groaned while rubbing his eyes, “Like I was hit by a Loaderbot, in other words, I've been better. Where am I?” his eyes scanning the room. There was a number of beeping monitors, a small chair that Vaughn had been sitting in, and a tall metal pole by his side with bags of fluid hanging with a tube snaking its way down to his wrist connected to the catheter in his vein. On the counter there were several flower and balloon bouquets emblazoned with the words 'Get well soon!', along with cards sharing the same sentiment.

“Do you not remember?” Vaughn asked, a look of confusion on his face “Bro that was you they were talking about on the news! You're lucky to be alive!” the smaller man exclaimed, searching his friends face for a reaction.

Rhys' eyes went wide, “Jack! Wheres Jack!” he shot strait up in the bed, “Where is he!?” clutching his blankets to his chest, a look of sheer panic on his features. His eyes darted around the room, heart threatening to beat out his his chest.

Vaughn immediately motioned to push his friend back onto the bed “Rhys! Rhys calm down! You're safe!” he yelled clutching Rhys shoulders, his friend seemed to understand as his body became less rigid, laying back into the bed. But the tall man was still breathing heavily, his eyes still wide. Vaughn's expression turned grave, “Is that the name of the asshole that did this to you?” He questioned “I'll throttle the bastard!”

Rhys averted his eyes from his friends angry gaze, reaching a hand gingerly to his neck “Yeah, his name was Jack. I met him in a bar, he got me drunk and must've taken me. I don't remember much after that, other than him strangling me.” Rhys winced, lightly touching the dark bruises on his neck. “He had a very distinct scar, couldn't see much else though. He was wearing dark sunglasses.”

Vaughn's gaze softened, taking his friend's hand in his and lightly squeezing it, “You gotta tell the police everything you know. With your help, they can catch this sicko and keep him from hurting anyone else.”

Rhys gave a small smile to his friend, “Lets do it!”

**

“...the latest victim of the 'Handsome Strangler', Rhys Cohen, was miraculously found alive. Reports say he was buried alive, but was found in time with the help of his quick thinking friend...” 

“Wrraaah!” Jack roared, hurling the glass of Bourbon he had been nursing at the wall besides the TV.

“Must you make such a commotion? I really liked that glass too, now we only have one!”

Jack whirled his head around, angry gaze settling on his twin brother who had walked in, toweling his wet hair. “I've gotten sloppy, Timothy. That little shit is still alive, he's gonna nark! I'm ruined!” 

“Well maybe if you didn't choke your victims, and just, oh I don't know, off them with a quick shot to the head, you wouldn't have this problem.” Timothy sneered, slumping into a recliner beside Jack.

“Choking is what you do when you don't chew your food, Timmy. What 'I' do is strangle, them!” Jack seethed, clenching and unclenching his hands to further his point. 

“Well, what are you going to do?” his twin inquired.

Jack sat back in his chair, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Yahtzee! I've got it” he exclaimed pounding his fist into the flat of his hand “And you're gonna help me.” Jack grinned, eyeing his brother maniacally. 

Tim just gulped, nothing good ever happened when his brother got that look in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah using that tired old trope that Jack and Tim are brothers haha Also I'll be honest with you guys I have two ways in my head that this could go, so we'll see what happens. Not even I know!
> 
> Also thanks so much for the comments and kudos! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying it!


	3. The Doppleganger

The next day was a flurry of activity for Rhys and his friend. One after another reporters, police, and detectives came into the cramped hospital room. The reporters wanted to hear of his heroism, how he managed to escape the clutches of a deranged serial killer. Detectives wanted descriptions of the elusive man that made his life a living hell. Along with the detectives several sketch artists filtered into the room, working off of the scattered details of Rhys' encounter. 

Unfortunately for the latter, he didn't have much to go on, in hindsight it made sense that Jack covered his face with the dark aviator sunglasses. His scar was so distinct, anyone would be able to pick him out in a crowd. Other than that, he only had the glimpse of his narrow face, and styled hair with the small shock of grey at his hairline. 

**

That evening after all the excitement had died down, Rhys and Vaughn got to the opportunity to get some well deserved rest after such an eventful day. But he was feeling restless, and unable to sleep. Something felt off. 

It seemed that his small friend could fall asleep anywhere though, slumped in his chair, head lolling to the side, a strand of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. Rhys envied him, 'Must be nice.' he thought to himself. 

Rhys laid back into the stiff hospital bed, turning his head to the side catching a glance of the small alarm clock, 12:05 am, the bright red letters glared at him. The faster he could fall asleep the faster it would be the next day, his discharge day. He had spent a total of 3 days in the dreadful place, he was ready to go home. Closing his eyes with a sigh, he tried to sleep once again. 

He was nearly dozed off, when a large hand slipped over his mouth and clamped down. Rhys' eyes shot open, his eyes darting around trying to find his assailant. When his eyes settled on a man in nurses scrubs standing beside his bed, a syringe of clear fluid in his hand. He began to breathe heavily as the stranger began to deftly screw the syringe into one of the IV access ports with his free hand. 

The man then stepped closer to the bed letting the light hit his face, Rhys heart nearly stopped. It was Jack! Or was it? He looked nearly identical, how ever the distinct scar was missing, but in its place was a light dusting of freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, soft green and blue eyes looked down at him.

Rhys watched helplessly as the Jack lookalike pressed down on the plunger of the syringe. The effect of the mystery solution hit him immediately. His veins felt like they were on fire, a wave a warmth washed over his body, then nothing. The man removed his hand from Rhys' mouth, “Heh, Midazolam has that effect on people.” he chuckled, his heterocromic eyes studying his victims face for a reaction, but Rhys only stared forward, with half lidded eyes, and mouth agape. 

Satisfied with what he saw, he continued to speak “I know you can hear me, and I bet you want to know who I am? Well lets just say I am a 'friend' of Jack's, and I want you to do something for me. And you don't know it yet, but your gonna do it. All it would take is one to many mls of this,” he said holding the syringe in Rhys' view “and you never wake up again. Got it?” 

Rhys forced a groan to escape his mouth, but his mind was screaming. “That's what I thought. You are going to meet at this place, this time, and on this date.” he murmured pressing a small slip of paper into the sedated man's hand, curling his fingers up and around it for him. The stranger then slipped a hand underneath Rhys' chin forcing him to make eye contact “I was never here, understand? If you tell anyone, I'll know. I have eyes everywhere. It'd also be shame if something were to happen to your little friend over there too.” he said, motioning to Vaughn's sleeping form. Rhys just groaned again, “Good boy, now sleep. You deserve it.” the man said, patting Rhys' cheek. The Jack look alike stood back up, pressing slightly again on the plunger.

**

Stepping out of the room, Tim let go of a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He hated when his brother forced him to help with his 'hobby'. He was good at putting up a front, Jack had taught him how to be menacing, but he hated every minute of it. Slipping the empty syringe in his front pocket, he gave the woman sitting at the nurses station a curt nod. She rolled her eyes in return and went back to playing with her phone. 

Nobody seemed any the wiser, security was incredibly lax surprisingly. It was painfully easy to sneak into the locker room, slip on some pilfered scrubs and make his way to Rhys' floor. Jack gave him the syringe of Midazolam, said he had 'connections', Tim knew it wise not to question his brother. 

He made his way to the elevator, down several floors, and through the lobby to Jacks waiting car. His brother folded up the news paper he'd been reading, giving Tim an expectant look, “Well?” he questioned. 

“Its done, he'll be there.” Tim sighed, “What are you gonna do with this kid? Why not just have me kill him?”

Jack gritted his teeth, “Do you know how suspicious, that'd be?” he barked angrily “The heroic attempted murder victim suddenly dies in his sleep, while in the hospital? He's a good looking kid, he'll be great 'bait'. I need someone to get me new victims, lord knows you won't do it. You talk a big game Timmy, but your nothing like me.”

Tim blanched “You still want to continue killing? Maybe this time you'll try a more efficient way of dispatching them, we all know how well your last attempt went...ack!” Tim's thought was cut short as Jack wrapped his hand around his brothers neck. 

“I'm making this right Timothy! We will not speak of my failures again!” Jack's eyes were wild, Tim knew not to fight him as he swallowed thickly. “Of course.” he gritted. His brothers eyes softened as he let go of Tim's throat, “Lets go home.” Jack muttered, starting his car and pulling out of the parking lot. 

**

The next morning Rhys was slow to wake. His head felt heavy, and he was slightly nauseated. Vaughn was in a chipper mood, glad to see his friend come home, but Rhys had to feign excitement. He wished his late night encounter with Jack's doppelganger was just a bad dream, but the slip of paper in his hand said otherwise. 

Scrawled on a yellow post it note was a date (2 days from today), a time (7:30 pm), and a place (out front of the bar where they had their fateful encounter). How could he get out of this? Besides the fact that Vaughn would probably never let him leave the house alone. He couldn't do this, he just couldn't. The thought crossed his mind 'Did Jack want to finish the job?'. Rhys grimaced, he wished he would have just killed him.

“You ok Bro?” 

Rhys was snapped out of his thoughts, he looked up to see a worried look on his friend's face, “Uh yeah, just tired I guess.” he forced a smile for effect “Ready to go home and sleep in my own bed!”

Vaughn seemed satisfied with the answer as he continued to gather up the cards and flowers that had been sent by Rhys' friends and coworkers. “So they said its hospital policy that you have to leave in a wheelchair.” he chuckled “Even though you are perfectly capable of walking out, something about liability I suppose.” 

Rhys nodded absentmindedly, lost in thought again. How would he even know where to find him? “Hey Vaughn, did the police bring my wallet, or was it kept as evidence?” 

Vaughn turned his attention back to his friend, “Nope, sorry. I don't think they ever found it. I guess Jack took it. Talk about adding insult to injury, he tried to kill you then took your wallet. We'll have to make sure and cancel your credit cards.”

“Hmm.” Rhys hummed thoughtfully. Jack had his wallet, with his ID, which had his and Vaughn's address. 

“Ready to go Mr. Cohen?” a cheerful male orderly addressed him, walking into the room pushing a wheelchair. 

“Heh yeah! Hope I won't see you guys again anytime soon!” Rhys forced more enthusiasm as he swung his legs over the bed, getting up and making his way to the waiting chair, “Lets go!” He plopped into the chair and was swiftly wheeled out of the room, Vaughn trailing behind them carrying his belongings. 

Rhys and the orderly waited out front of the hospital while Vaughn brought the car around. When he pulled up, Rhys thanked the the man for helping him. He then ducked into the car, looking at his smiling friend, he resolved to push the thought of his impending doom aside. He'd enjoy the few days he had left with his friend. Why borrow worry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty happy with this chapter, I think I am starting to hit my stride again! 
> 
> Also please know I read all the comments and I really appreciate them! I just never never know what/how to reply, so don't think they go unnoticed! Once again, thanks for any and all comments and kudos!


	4. "His name is Mr. Whiskers!"

The next two days were pleasant enough for Rhys, nothing like one would assume you would live if it was your last though. He didn't go skydiving, or run with the bulls, or anything one might do if they were living their last few days on earth. He was just able to enjoy the company of his best friend. Though he fought hard to keep up a happy facade, doing his best to hide his inner turmoil. 

His suspicions about Vaughn not letting him leave the house unescorted were not unfounded, as his friend played his personal bodyguard when they went out. Vaughn was already pretty high strung, but this was a whole new level for him. Glaring daggers at anyone who dared get to close to his friend. So when he stepped out for some beers at Rhys request, the cybernetic man wasted no time in hurrying out the door and down the street for his meeting.

He wanted to leave his friend a note, saying that it be ok, but he didn't want to lie to him. It was better this way. Vaughn had inadvertently gotten mixed up in this, no need for him to get hurt, no more than he would be at the loss of his best friend that is. 

As Rhys came up to the bar his he could feel his pulse quicken, and his breathing becoming heavy. The memories of days prior running though his mind. A shiver ran down his spine as he rubbed his arms, it wasn't that cold was it? 

He stood in front of the bar as he was instructed, not knowing what to look for or what to expect. Were they just going to do a drive by? Leave him bleeding in the parking lot? He shuddered at the thought. Anxiously biting his lower lip, he brought up the time in his cybernetic palm, 6:59 pm, any minute now. 

He held the clock in his palm for another few minutes, idly watching the time tick by. His attention was diverted from this hand when a gold Ford Galaxie with dark tinted windows pulled up in front of him. The door swung open and a hand shot out grabbing him by the wrist, pulling him into the car. 

Rhys let out a yelp as the hand holding his wrist twisted his arm behind his back, “Close the door Pumpkin.” a voice whispered in his ear. Rhys obeyed, with a slight wince he reached out and pulled the passenger side door closed. “Give me your other hand.” the voice rasped again. Rhys slowly surrendered his remaining hand. There was a small click, and the feel of cold metal against his flesh wrist. “What the...?” Suddenly he was spun around, meeting eyes with his captor.

Jack. 

But he wasn't wearing his sunglasses this time, his angry red scar on full display. A bright blue eye, and a unsightly cloudy eye scrutinized him from the other side of the cabin, Rhys couldn't help but gape at the sight. “Like what you see?” Jack grinned, flashing his canines. The younger man averted his gaze, feeling somewhat embarrassed for staring, “What are you gonna do with me?” he whispered looking at the floor of the car. 

“Yeah tell him Jack, tell him why we're doing this convoluted plan of yours.” a voice piped up from the drivers seat. “Hey, names Timothy, Jacks twin brother. I believe we've met before, no hard feelings?” Tim craned his neck to look back at Rhys. 

Before Rhys could answer, Jack cut him off sharply “Dammit Tim, shut up!” he growled. The older man turned his attention back to his captive, “You ruined my life you son of a taint! That damn profile sketch you gave to the police is everywhere! I can't ever show my face in public again!” he fumed.

Rhys' eyes widened, he couldn't believe what he was hearing, “Your life!? I ruined your life!?” the younger man was indignant, leaning forward into Jacks face “You try to kill me, bury me alive, and then black mail me into coming with you!? I ruined your life!? What the fu...” his tirade was cut short with a resounding crack as Jack's fist met his temple. Rhys was seeing stars, he fell backwards into the door of the car, his consciousness slipping away. 

“Mouthy little shit isn't he?” 

**

Rhys could feel something licking his face, a small jingling sound rang in his ears. But despite being licked he couldn't force himself to open his eyes. His head was throbbing, and it felt like it would explode at any moment.

“I think he likes you.”

Rhys' eyes shot open at the sound of the familiar voice. He met eye to eye with a large brown tabby sitting on his chest, “Mow.” the cat looked unamused as it jumped off of him, trotting over to Timothy, who sat crouched down with his arms resting on his knees a few feet from Rhys.

The younger man made a motion to get up but was stopped short when his flesh arm was hung up on something, turning to his right he quickly found out why. His hand was handcuffed to an old cast iron radiator protruding from the wall. He shot Tim a questioning look, “Jack didn't want you to run away.” he said flatly, while stroking the cat who had begun rubbing against his legs. 

“His name is Mr. Whiskers.” Timothy grinned. 

“What?” Rhys stammered, his mind still trying to process what was going on. The whole ordeal seemed surreal. 

“My cat, his name is Mr. Whiskers.” Tim repeated.

“Where am I?” Rhys grumbled, looking around the room. It was a small living room, decorated modestly, with a couch, recliner, and a medium sized TV, the walls were painted a pale yellow. “Why am I still alive?” he continued, pulling his knees up to his chest, wrapping his free arm around them and resting his chin on the top of them.

“Jack wants you to help him find more victims now that he can't exactly show his face in public anymore. Trust me it'd be in your best interest to just do what he wants.” Tim frowned, looking at the floor in front of Rhys, Mr. Whiskers had wandered off into another room.

“Well he's got another thing coming if he thinks for one second that...” Rhys trailed off, glancing at Tim's arms. They were covered in dark bruises and scrapes “What happened to you?” he questioned.

Tim grimaced, looking away from Rhys' judging gaze. “Jack, he, he sometimes looses his temper.” he sighed pulling his sweaters sleeves over his arms “Just listen to me when I say you should do what he says.” 

Rhys opened his mouth to protest, just as Jack strode into the room clutching a small drive in his hand. He shot his captive a predatory glare. “Perfect timing!” he exclaimed, “Tim hold him down, make sure you hold his head still.”

Rhys gave Tim a pleading glance, but he shot a look of 'sorry' back to him. Tim motioned to grab the younger man's wrist, but Rhys was not having any of it. He swung out with all the strength he could muster, kicking out at as the twin caged him in. But like Jack, Tim was much stronger and heavier than him. Easily straddling his hips, pinning his free arm down with his knee, and turning his head to the side with his hands, giving Jack ample access to his data port. 

“No, no! What are you doing!? Get off of me!” Rhys screamed, writhing underneath Tim, kicking his legs out with every ounce of energy he had. 

“Tsk, tsk, Rhysie. Don't think I didn't figure out how you managed to weasel your way out of my trap.” Jack said casually as he toyed with the drive, Rhys watched his every movement with a wary eye “Pretty fancy arm you got there friend, good way to have people track you. Maybe even call a life line? Lucky for you, I dabble in a bit a programming myself.”

“No, no its not like that at all! I promise I won't use my cybernetics!” Rhys stammered.

“No dice Pumpkin! You're not going anywhere this time!” Jack grinned as he jammed the drive into Rhys' port. 

If Rhys thought his head hurt before, it was nothing compared to the pain that shot though his skull after the mystery drive was plugged in. “Feel that Rhysie? Its just a little virus program I whipped up, no more phoning home, no more GPS tracking, hell I even threw in a weakening program for that arm. You're stuck here with me.” Jack whispered in Rhys' ear. 

Tim stepped off of the younger man as his body seized from the malicious software. But just as quickly as it started, it was over. Rhys laid limp on the floor, he weakly reached up to pull the drive from his head tossing it aside, “Fuck you.” he muttered. 

In a flash he was doubling over in pain as Jack gave him a swift kick in the ribs “Better lose the attitude kiddo. It'll make things a lot easier for you.” he said stepping out of the room “Get some rest, you've got a big day tomorrow.”

Tim warily eyed his twin as he left the room, turning his gaze to the crumpled man on the floor he crouched down again “Sorry about that. Let me get you some blankets and a pillow, I know its not much, but its better than sleeping on the bare floor.” he said, standing up and going to a closet. 

He retrieved a overstuffed comforted an a feather pillow from a small linen closet in the hall returning to the captive man. Rhys hadn't moved an inch, just staring forward into space. Tim gingerly draped the blanket over him, setting the pillow down next to him on the floor. Satisfied with his peace offering, he turned to go to his own room when a small voice rasped behind him, 

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick FYI for you readers who are reading it as I write it, please check the tags with each chapter. I am updating them as I go, as I am kinda winging this whole thing haha. I have a vague idea of where I am going with it, but not entirely. Could it be considered 'proofread free form'?
> 
> And as always, thanks so much for all your comments, and kudos! It makes me so happy to know people enjoy my work! Especially after how long its been since I've written anything haha.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Rhysie! How's he gonna get himself outta this? I welcome questions, comments, critiques, theories, etc! It's been about ten years since I wrote any kind of fan fiction so I am a bit rusty!


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